As you've heard by now, the Duke of Edinburgh, a.k.a. Prince Philip, died yesterday. He was two months and a day shy of 100 years old.
The world knows him mainly because he was the queen's husband. Also remembered are his often-unfiltered comments, which rubbed more than a few people the wrong way. I had to chuckle, however, about his retort to a man whose wife had a PhD. "She's much more important than I am," the man said. To which Philip replied, "We have the same problem in my family."
He also earned a reputation a sportsman. He raced boats, yachts, horses and race cars; piloted planes and played games I probably never will be able to afford. I give him "props," though, for participating in one of the few forms of cycling I've never tried:
|Prince Philip at Windsor, 1967. UPI Photo|
I'm told he was a pretty good bicycle polo player. The polo field was, if nothing else, one place where he didn't have to walk two paces behind Elizabeth. I wonder whether that was part of the sport's appeal to him.
(It occurs to me now that I've mentioned bicycles and royals in the same post twice this week. That could make for an interesting, but strange, genre, couln't it?)